


Useless

by skepticalghouligan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Felching, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 08:20:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5960545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skepticalghouligan/pseuds/skepticalghouligan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys’ first time together occurs because Dean ended up with a broken elbow, rendering his right arm completely useless and requiring Sam’s assistance with nearly everything. (Set after moving into the bunker).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Useless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [buttheyrebrothers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttheyrebrothers/gifts).



> Prompt: First time and Hurt/Comfort. 
> 
> Written for day 2 Wincest Love Week for buttheyrebrothers

Sam sighed, pressing his foot down on the gas a little harder. His brother, Dean, was passed out in the passenger seat, his head resting on Sam's bicep, a grimace  planted on his freckled face. They’d had a rough run in with Set, a particularly vicious Egyptian god. Dean had jumped in and ended up thrown, landing wrong on his elbow. Though he’d resisted Sam’s insistence for a hospital, Sam had won out, and now the older Winchester had broken his elbow, and now had a full arm sling on his right arm, rendering it useless. 

"Come on Dean." Sam muttered after he'd pulled into the bunker garage. He nudged Dean awake, helping him out of the car. Dean pushed Sam weakly. "I can walk." He slurred, stumbling a little. Sam grabbed him around the hips. "You're drugged. Come on."

"You stink." Dean muttered. "Well excuse me, didn't have time to take a damn spa day. You don't smell so nice yourself, jerk." Sam mumbled as he pulled Dean into the library. "Gotta shower."

"You can't get your cast wet."

"I can manage." Sam got Dean into a chair and sighed, crossing his arms. "You're gonna need help, Dean. Just stay here for a minute." He walked out of the room.

 

Dean counted to ten once Sam was out of the room, then rose and staggered his way toward the bathroom. He hit every wall on the way, it seemed, and knew if he didn't have so many drugs in his system he'd be in crippling pain. Despite this, he made it to the bathroom and slumped on the floor, reaching his left arm out to turn on the tub faucet. 

Rising and leaning against the wall, he fought with his belt clasp, cussing under his breath. Before he could make it very far, Sam pushed open the door, meeting Dean’s guilty smile. “Heh.. Hi.” Dean mumbled, letting his hand fall from the belt. Sam threw him a bitchface before sighing. “Dean, come on. I know you’ve got some sort of complex against getting help with anything, but you’re gonna need help until your elbow heals.”

“I’m fine.”

“Right. Go ahead and take off your belt then.” Sam leaned on the door, barely concealing a smirk. Dean scowled and looked down at his belt, not any closer to being undone than before he’d begun fighting with it. “Okay, fine, maybe I need some help with the belt.”

“And your jeans?”

“I can manage the jeans.” Sam sighed and stepped forward. He unhooked Dean’s belt with no effort and tossed it on the floor. His hands went to Dean’s button and the older smacked his hand. “Back off my dick, Sam.”

“I’m not on your dick.” 

 

The two bickered back and forth as Sam continued to help Dean strip out of his clothes. When he was nude, Sam grabbed his good elbow in a firm grip. “Step into the tub.”

“I’m capable of walking.” 

“Shut up and do it before I throw you into the damn water.”

“That’d ruin my cast.” Sam’s grip tightened painfully on his elbow and he pushed the smaller man toward the now half filled tub. “In.” Dean flashed a grin. “Aw, Sam. That Dom voice gets me all hot and wet.” He teased. Sam scowled at him, ignoring the tightening in his stomach at Dean’s words. 

He helped Dean into the tub, careful to make sure the water didn’t hit Dean’s cast or brace. “Here.” He passed Dean a soapy washcloth before grabbing a cup and beginning to pour water carefully on his brother’s short hair. 

“I feel like I’m five.”

“Feel however you want, Dean, I don’t wanna have to take you back cause you soaked your cast.”

“When does this stupid thing come off?” Dean whined as he washed his body as well as he could with his left hand. “Three weeks. Unless you keep going against doctor’s orders, then you might need surgery.”

“Dude, I can’t be laid up for three weeks.”

“You can, and you will.”

“Or what?”

“We have a torture chamber, Dean. I will use it on you.” Dean grinned back at Sam, his eyes glinting. “Now you’re just teasing.”

“And you’re high.” Sam muttered, diverting his gaze from Dean’s shining face. He washed the shampoo out of his hair and took the cloth from his hand, scrubbing over the freckled expanse of Dean’s back. “You good?” He asked, sitting back. Dean nodded, looking down at the grey water. “Yuck.” 

“Come on.” Sam stood and held out his hand, grabbing Dean’s good elbow. Dean caught Sam’s upper arm and rose. Sam’s hand went to his wet hip, balancing him as he got out of the tub.

 

“You don’t need to sit in on me, Sammy. I’m not gonna hurt myself. I just wanna sleep.” Dean muttered. Sam had helped him dress and gotten him food before putting him into bed, where he was currently propped up on an enormous mound of pillows and covered up to his neck. The arm, stuck in one position, stuck awkwardly out of the blanket. “You kick and roll in your sleep, I wanna make sure you don’t roll onto the arm until you’re used to it.” Sam said as he settled into the desk chair, kicking his feet up on the edge of the bed. He tossed a blanket over his lap and slouched down, opening a book on his lap. “Go to sleep, Dean.”

“Bossy bitch.” Dean muttered, but closed his eyes and settled into the pillow mountain.

 

 

 

Over the course of the next few weeks, Dean became increasingly aggressive, biting Sam’s head off over the least little thing. Sam remained as patient as he could, helping Dean bathe, eat, and do anything else he needed to do. He shopped for them, even indulging in Dean’s love of anything greasy and sweet rather than pushing healthy food on him, but to no avail. 

After one particularly bad argument over Sam’s insistence that Dean pass up a case that sounded like a werewolf to a nearby hunter, Dean threw a punch at his younger brother before storming down the hall. Sam winced when the door to his bedroom slammed shut.

Concerned when he heard nothing for nearly an hour, Sam creeped toward Dean’s door. He hated spying on his brother, but he was concerned. Dean’s temper was one thing he was used to, but Dean was never like this. Sure, he could blame some of it on the broken arm, and the pain from the healing, but not all of it. Dean was no stranger to pain, Sam knew. So, he broke his own rule to respect Dean’s space, and eased the door open enough to peek inside.

 

Dean was stretched out on the bed in just his t-shirt, his hand working furiously between his legs. Dean was whining, but it wasn’t a pleasured sound. To Sam, it sounded like his older brother was close to tears. Steeling himself for another argument, he stood straight and knocked on the door before opening it the rest of the way. 

“Damnit, Sam!” Dean barked at him, throwing the blanket over his hips. “Wait until I say okay!”

“Dean.” Sam said calmly, entering the room and shutting the door. “I know what’s wrong.”

“You have no idea what’s wrong.” Dean snapped, attempting to sit up. The cast prevented his movement and he slammed his head against the mattress in frustration. 

Sam stepped forward, grabbing for Dean to help him. Instead, the man swung at Sam’s head. Sam anticipated the action, catching Dean’s fist in his hand. His cheeks burned when he felt the warm slick of lube on Dean’s fist, and he caught the olders gaze. “Dean, I can help.”

"How, Sam? You gonna jerk me off?" Dean snarled. Sam shrank a little, his cheeks brightening more. He gave a barely there shrug and Dean scoffed. "Seriously, Sam? I'm not desperate enough to have my brother give me a handjob."

"I am." Sam muttered before he realized he'd opened his mouth. "What the hell are you talking about?"

“You’ve been a complete jerk to me for two weeks, Dean, when all I’ve done is try to friggin’ help your sorry ass. I go out of my way to make sure you’re comfortable, and all you do is scream at me and throw punches when something doesn’t go right! If it’s because you can’t jack off with your left then fine, I’ll bite the friggin’ bullet and do it for you, because that’s better than you being a shit!” He finally snapped, leaving Dean gaping at him. 

Sam took a deep breath, looking down at his hands to calm himself. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to help you, De. I just want you to be okay.”

“I am okay, Sammy… I just have a hard time letting someone help me out. Or… Look, everything you’re doing for me is great, you’ve been an awesome little brother. Thank you.” He touched Sam’s wrist. “I just hate feeling helpless. You know I’ve always been the one to take care of you, and Dad when he was too stupid to take care of himself. I don’t like knowing I’m useless.”

“You’re not useless.”

“Right now I am! I can’t shower, I can’t shave, I can barely eat… Can’t drive my car, can’t even jerk off!” He slapped at the blanket covering his hips in frustration. “I’m freakin’ useless.”

“You got hurt, Dean.” Sam grabbed Dean’s wrist without thinking about it. He held it up so he wouldn’t hit himself or Sam. “You saved my ass doing it too, if you hadn’t jumped on that god when you did, he would’ve killed me. So thank you…” Sam sighed, looking at his hand, curled loosely around Dean’s wrist. “You’re just hurt. You’ll get better, if anyone can beat a broken elbow it’s you. You’ll just need help, one more week, that’s it. Then you’ll be back to kicking ass and not needing anyone’s help for anything. But lemme help until then, okay?”

“Sam, I’m supposed to take care of you.” Dean said, his voice breaking out of its gruff shell. Sam’s mouth twitched into a smile for just a moment. “We’ve had this discussion, De. We take care of each other.”

 

Sam knew that face. He knew Dean was going to argue. And he didn’t want to hear it. So instead, and thinking back on it years later, Sam couldn’t say why he did it, he leaned forward and slammed his mouth against Dean’s. The gasp from the older Winchester was enough to spur Sam on. He rose, not breaking the kiss, letting his fingers moved up to find the slightly longer hair on the top of Dean’s head, twist and pull. Dean’s throat clicked, a moan swallowed by Sam’s mouth as he crawled onto the bed, his wide stance slotting over Dean’s hips. He moved his hands down then, over Dean’s fabric covered chest and further, twisting the sheet down to bare his freckled hips. Only then, when Dean was sufficiently pinned under him, did Sam pull back.

Dean’s mouth was parted, lips swollen and pupils blown as he met Sam’s gaze. “What’re you doing?” He rasped, and Sam smiled. “Taking care of my big brother.”

“This…”

“This is what I’ve wanted for years, Dean.” Sam admitted, the words leaving his mouth at the same time a weight left his shoulders. His biggest secret. “I’ve wanted you for years.” 

Dean was silent for a long time, long enough that Sam began to worry about what he was thinking, if he hated him for saying it, thought he was disgusting. But Dean’s fingers running through his hair and yanking his head down settled that worry. Their lips met a second time and it was Sam’s turn to whine, gasp, and moan. Dean bit hard enough on his lip to swell it, and Sam’s hips jerked down in response. Dean grunted in surprise and laid back on the pillows. 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, eyes moving everywhere but Sam’s face. “So…”

“Shut up.” Sam responded when Dean tried to rationalize, like he always did. Instead, he moved next to him, shucking the sheet from Dean’s hips. His brother’s erection was a beautiful thing to behold, thinner than his own, but veined, the darker tan standing out against Dean’s pale belly. His ruddy tip was already leaking onto his stomach, curved just enough that Sam understood why Dean was such a hit with the ladies. 

“Gonna stare at it all night or touch it?” Dean’s teasing remark pulled Sam from his examination. “Shut up.” Sam replied again, before leaning down and wrapping his lips around it without hesitation. Dean’s hips jerked, or they would have if Sam hadn’t been pinning them with his hands, preferring not to get choked their first time. 

“Don’t… Sam…” Dean panted, his good hand furiously tugging Sam’s head back when the younger began to bob his head. Sam moved back, licking his lips. “What? Why not? Come on, Dean, I know how to give head.”

“It’s not that, Sammy.” Dean said, smoothing Sam’s hair. “I haven’t come in weeks. You… If you start with that I’m gonna blow before we even get your clothes off.”

“My clothes don’t need to come off, Dean.” Sam argued, moving to take him back into his mouth, but Dean’s hand tightened in his hair again. “Yeah, they do.”

“Why?” The older’s eyes flipped to the corner of the room. “Because I want you to screw me.” 

Sam choked on air. Dean’s eyes landed back on his face, concerned. “You wh— Dean, come on… Kissing is one thing, but I—“

“You what? You just confessed your undying love for me, Sam. You really expect me to believe that you’ve wanted me for this long and haven’t thought about pounding me into the bed?” Sam’s stomach twisted at Dean’s words, turning to glance at Dean’s thighs. Seeing the look, Dean widened his legs, bracing his feet on the bed and arching his hips into Sam’s face. “Come on… You know you want it, Sam, I can see it in your eyes. And at this point… I need it. I can’t… It’s really hard for me to come with just a hand. I like other stimulation.”

“Seriously? How come I didn’t know?” Sam asked, palming Dean’s thigh. “Because sex isn’t something we discuss very often, Sam.”

“I didn’t know you were into guys.” Sam clarified, shifting to settle between Dean’s legs. He cupped the backs of his knees and brought them over his shoulders, looking up at Dean to await the response. “Yeah, well, I didn’t know you were either.” Sam rolled his eyes—classic brother response. “Hand me one of those pillows.” He reached his hand out, and stuffed the pillow he was handed under Dean’s hips, canting them up and baring the object of his lust to him. “You comfortable?” He asked, their gaze meeting over the expanse of Dean’s body.

“Be more comfortable without this cast. Or if you’d shut up and get inside me already.”

“I’m gonna take care of you, Dean, not use you.” Sam returned, and Dean muttered something under his breath about being a girl. In response, Sam dropped his head between Dean’s legs, mouthing his entrance. Dean’s entire body jerked and he fisted the shaggy hair. “Jesus, Sam!” He barked, and Sam grinned against his smooth flesh. He nipped and licked at the fluttering skin, pulling back to rub his thumb over it every few seconds. Dean was swearing up a string of nonsense curses, his head flipping on the bed. Sam moved back, placing Dean’s legs far apart on the bed. “Where’s the lube?” 

A small bottle flew at Sam’s face, withdrawn from the pillow. “Don’t worry about stretching, I already had two in, just get in me.” Dean begged, already coming apart at the seams. “I’m not even naked yet, Dean.”

“Well get naked! I swear, Sam, for all your talk of taking care of me, you’re sure enjoying making me ache! I’m gonna have blue balls before you even get your dick in your hand.” Sam smirked and reached out, slapping the tip of Dean’s erection gently. The older man howled, his sharp gaze hitting Sam like a brick. “I swear to God, Sam.” He spat through gritted teeth. “We’ll have time for your teasing and shit next time. Please. I need to come.” 

“Next time?” Sam questioned as he rose, stripping out of his clothes much too slowly for Dean’s taste. “There’s going to be a next time?”

“There won’t be if you don’t hurry up!” Dean snapped, fighting to sit up. 

“Sit still.” Sam barked, moving quickly to place one wide hand on Dean’s chest. “If you keep moving you’re gonna hurt yourself. If you keep moving, I’m not going to let you come.” Dean’s mouth dried up instantly at the command in Sam’s voice. His balls pulled tighter to his body, unbearable aroused. “O—Okay.” He whispered, too turned on to fight. He let his head fall back to the pillows and bit down on his bottom lip, watching his little brother finish stripping.

 

Sam worked two fingers into Dean, not removing his eyes from his brothers flushed face. Dean whined and bucked against the fingers but kept his eyes open, trained on Sam's cock, hanging heavy between his legs. Thicker than most Dean had taken, blood and friction making it a flushed red, leaking small beads of precum that made Dean's mouth water. If he hadn't been so needy, he would've begged to taste Sam, learn the curves and dips on that precious tool... But no, he needed it inside him. He needed to feel if that prominent curve really would hit his prostate like he thought, if that wide flared head would give him the stretch his body already ached for. 

 

Sam was driving three wide fingers into Dean, scissoring them a few times before pulling back to repeat, when Dean finally gave in. The short haired man began to plead, thrusting his hips up and forward, attempting to get the fingers as deep as they'd go. 

Sam got the hint quickly and withdrew his fingers, slicking his own erection and pressing it to Dean's pliable, swollen hole. Their eyes met again and Dean smiled, already looking more fucked out than Sam had ever seen. "I'll take care of you, De." Sam whispered before driving home.

 

Dean thought he must have blacked out the first time his baby brother entered him. He seems to remember, distantly, Sam's shout, and his large hands pinning his hips in a bruising hold.

It was when he opened his eyes again, however, that Dean saw the one thing that he'll hold most vividly about this act. His little brother, who he'd cared for and fought for his whole life. His Sam, leaned over him. His thighs were on Sam's shoulders as the younger man thrust evenly into him, but his face. Sam wore too many emotions to count. Dean could see arousal and pleasure, obviously, but a hint of disbelief, and what looked like sadness. Most prominent though, were the looks of love and gratefulness overtaking Sam's sweat shiny face. 

Their eyes met, and Dean could see tears shining in Sam's. Instead of teasing, he pulled Sam down to him, shifting his legs down to hook around Sam's hips as he kissed him hard, allowing moans and whispers to bubble into Sam's mouth.

 

Dean could feel Sam's movements grow erratic as their lovemaking went on. Sam's breath rasped and hitched against Dean's neck, and he reached between them. 

Sam knew exactly how to touch Dean, it seemed, and Dean's nails dug into his brother's back. He began to plead again, the words muffled by Sam's shoulder. The taller understood, though, and kissed Dean's earlobe. "It's okay, De... Let baby brother take care of you." 

The words broke something inside Dean, and he gave a howl of pleasure, his orgasm hitting him. Ropes of his warm seed splashed between their stomachs as he cried Sam's name, hips bucking wildly.

 

Sam slowed his thrusts as he took Dean down, shaking with the effort. When Dean realized what he was doing, he tightened his grip on Sam with his legs. "You didn't come." He rasped, and Sam smiled. "I didn't do this to come. I did this to take care of you. Plus I'm not wearing a rubber." He panted, his arms shaking with the effort of slowing down. 

Dean's jaw tensed. "I know you're clean. Now lemme stop feeling useless, Sam. Let me take care of you now." He shifted, clenching his insides around Sam's cock. Dean had to grin at the shocked moan that ripped from Sam's throat. 

Dean took advantage, grinding down on him, his face a perfect mask of pleasure. He saw Sam's will beginning to break. "Come on, Sammy." He panted, his good hand guiding Sam's thrusts. "Show big brother what he means to you, huh? Show him he can take care of you too." He pleaded, and Sam gave in. He began to pound into Dean again, moaning and gasping his name on repeat. Dean continued to coax him, his body aching for what was coming.

Sam's hips gave a final snap and he stilled, releasing deep inside Dean. The older shivered as he was filled, the sensitive flesh of his stretched hole aching on each throb of Sam's cock. He pet Sam's back gently, watching his brother's look of pure ecstasy. 

 

When Sam's eyes focused again, he grinned devilishly at Dean, leaning down and kissing him hard before pulling out. Dean was about to complain, but Sam was between his legs, his mouth latched over his hole before Dean could formulate a thought. Sam's tongue pushed past the reddened pucker, earning a groan from Dean. "Dude." Dean tried to argue, but Sam ignored him, using fingers and mouth to pull his own seed from Dean's ass. Dean let his body relax, shivering when he felt Sam's come dribbling out of him, into Sam's awaiting mouth. The noises of pleasure he was making as he ate his big brother's ass were enough to get Dean's dick interested, and he gave a weak groan. 

Sam had two fingers deep in Dean, spreading him so he could lick up every drop of come he could manage. He could feel Dean jerking off, and the thought just made him grin. If Dean needed extra stimulation to come, then he’d give it to him. He began to thrust his fingers as he used his tongue, rubbing against Dean’s prostate when he could hit it. By the sounds the other was making, Sam knew he was doing something right.

 

Dean called Sam’s name when he was close, pulling at his hair. Sam looked up, his eyes stinging with pride, his lips and chin shining with come and spit. Dean groaned; that was probably the most sexy thing he’d ever seen. He came then, barely able to shift his angle. The first rope landed on Sam’s face, high up and mostly in his hair, an image Dean decided he wanted to replicate more often. Sam got the idea then and moved up, opening his mouth so the rest of Dean’s seed would land on his cheeks and tongue. When he’d finished, Sam wrapped his lips around him, sucking gently a moment before moving up, kissing Dean hard. The older Winchester shivered, his tongue moving up to catch the semen as Sam let it dribble into his mouth. 

 

They pulled apart panting, and Sam flopped on the bed next to him, wiping his forehead and chin with his forearm. “Holy crap.” He panted after a moment, and Dean laughed breathlessly. “Thanks, Sammy.” He said after a while, and Sam smiled, looking over at him. “My pleasure. Trust me.” Dean rolled his eyes and shoved him playfully. Sam sat up and stretched, his back popping. “Come on, we gotta clean you up.” He said, standing and taking Dean’s left hand. 

Dean allowed himself to be pulled up and leaned on Sam a little as they walked to the bathroom. “I’m sorry I was such a dick these past few weeks. I get why you’re doing this.”

“And I get feeling useless… But you’re not, Dean. You’ve done so much to take care of me, I… You could never be useless in my eyes.” Dean tried to hide the smile that brightened his face. “Shut up, you big sissy.” He muttered, a hint of joy in his voice. Sam only grinned and leaned over, kissing his temple.


End file.
